Eleven Months Ago

Dear Fred:
Tomorrow (the 28th) will mark the 11th month of Nick's death.  He died in the very early morning hours of that awful day.  However, the memories of the 27th of March still haunt me and will do so for the rest of my life. They are almost more than I can bear.  I so hope they will ease in time.
Nick continued to be so brave that day.  I know he was in terrible pain.  He could not lie still in bed and the male nurse had to come every few minutes and try to lift him to the commode.  Nick's bodily functions were all shutting down so he continued to have the sensations that he needed the commode but nothing ever relieved him.  He hurt so badly.
Our nurse was so patient with Nick.  He knew Nick was in the active stage of dying and tried to prepare me.  He also took it on himself to contact the doctor on call to arrange for an airbed to be specially ordered for Nick so he could rest more comfortably.  None of the other medical staff cared enough to do this.  I will always remember and be grateful for that bit of kindness and compassion he showed Nick.
Nick had stopped eating and drinking.  The nurses would just drop off his tray and never try to encourage him or help him.  He was too weak to have fed himself.  He could not have eaten even if he had felt like it.  I stayed with him and tried to get him to eat a little broth.  He could not do this.  I then tried to get him to drink a little apple juice.  He did not want to, you could tell.  But that dear brave man tried his best and did drink a tiny bit.  I know it was more for my benefit than his own.
He would lapse in and out of sleep.  We didn't talk much as he was so weak.  I was able to tell him many times that I loved him.  He would try to answer but his words were very slurred.  He finally slipped in to a comatose state.
I stood by him and stroked his forehead, held his hand and began talking to him remembering happy times we had shared together.  Once in a while I could feel a response from his hand or see an eyelid flutter.
I could not believe he was dying.  I felt a huge urgency that somehow God or the Cosmos would know what was happening and correct this huge and awful mistake.  I kept feeling a panicked need to run... run and tell someone or something that Nick was dying and that they had to stop it.  I had no one to run to.  And, neither God nor the Cosmos showed up to correct this horrible mistake that was happening.  Even Nick's doctor never showed up.  All I could do was try to comfort him with words and with touch.  I had lost the battle.  I had lost him.
That night the nursing staff changed and we lost our good nurse.  He was replaced by a very lazy uncaring young woman.  She did nothing to help Nick and was usually late with his pain medications.  Her movements were slow and insolent and she was very non-responsive to any of Nick's pain or needs.  If I ever meet her in a dark ally she had better be able to run faster than I can! 
Nick's bodily functions continued to shut down.  He finally could not process the oxygin he was breathing.  I watched as his levels continued to fall.  I continued to talk to him and brush his forehead.  I did not want him to feel the fear and sorrow I felt.  I told him he was a valiant and brave person and that I understood he had to leave me.
The nurse began checking his heart and I knew neither God nor the Cosmos were going to prevent this horrible horrible mistake.  I felt Nick exhale and completely relax.  I knew he was gone.  Gone from the life he loved.  Gone from the work he loved.  And, gone from me forever.
I am honored by having shared 22 years with this man.  I hope someday I will be able to recall him and all the good things we shared without the bitterness of tears and heartbreak.
Thank you, Fred, for listening and for remembering this with me.  I leave this as a tribute to Nick and for his extreme bravery and kind spirit.
 
2/27/2012                   Darlene Newman